There Is An Us
by maya295
Summary: ONE SHOT - post "Help Me": House&Cuddy join hands and then what happens?... I wanted this tale to be special. So the story is told by the two lovers, but talking to each other / 1st part: Cuddy's voice. Then House's. Then House and Cuddy together...


I've have this in my head since May, 17th - 9.01pm! LOL. It's been haunting me.

So I guess I had to write it.

And that's what I did. But, in the process, I found myself wanting to write it in a style that would be special. Something not classic. Just as House and Cuddy are for me.

So I've written this one-shot in the first person. But not only. As I wanted this to be intimate and sensual, there's no narrator. this tale is told between two lovers, but _to each other_. Here, we are just the silent witnesses of what they have to declare.

First part (as indicated into brackets) is Cuddy's voice. Then House's. Then, finally, in the last part, it's House and _Cuddy_ together. So, at this point, to make it easier to understand, House's voice will be written in normal font, and Cuddy's in italic.

Anyway… enough explanations! The best way to find out what I'm talking about is to read… right?

And I hope you'll enjoy it.

* * *

** ~~ THERE IS A US ~~**

"_How do I know I'm not hallucinating?"_

"_Did you take the Vicodin?"_

"_Nope!"_

"_Then, I think we're ok..."_

"_Yea."_

# # # # #

_[Cuddy]_

A smile is drawing on your lips. It's a shy one, but it's there and I feel relieved. I'm still feeling a small lingering sense of guilt because of all the pain I've caused you, but it's fading away already. I'm relieved and extremely serene; in this moment of confusion and emotional mess, you've still got the strength to smile. To me. And that's all that matters. I don't know if you'll ever forgive me but I can see in your eyes that you want to. I look at you and I'm smiling too, with all the love I've just declared I have for you, with all the desire I feel vibrate inside me, with all the tenderness I want to give. I capture you in my smile, compellingly, and I'm drawing you down towards me with the power of my gaze. You take my lips again. And it's another sensation, different, and promising: it feels less hesitant already, thirstier. I just gave you enough confidence to claim me. And you do. You lean down and you bite in the pulp of my lower lip, while your hand searches for mine. Our fingers entangle instantly and we're squeezing each other, like two shipwrecked people finally coming out of the storm. Safe. Not completely unscathed but still... undeniably safe.

Yes, we're ok. I know we will be.

I grip your hand tightly and I give in to your kiss. Your tongue brushes my lips. It's such a delicate sensation. You're gentle, soft, almost restrained. But I want more. I've struggled to convince myself I had to shut down my heart for so long, but I couldn't. It was useless. And now I feel it flooding through my veins. What I feel for you is more irrepressible than the power of an ocean's tide; and when I think of all the years I've wasted, of all the lies I've told myself not to be with you, of all the opportunities I've missed, I feel dizzy. I nibble your lips and I taste your tongue and my other hand is resting on your chest. I can feel it going up and down rapidly. I can feel your weight, pressing me against the wall. It's almost as if you were falling, falling down on me... as if you were going to faint.

I break away from your lips, reluctantly, but I know we can't kiss anymore. We can't pretend it's enough to wipe away the day we just lived or make it disappear. I wish it were; so much, it aches. But I know it's not. I tip my head forward until my forehead meets yours. Our eyes are closed but I still see you. I know you're wincing. I know you're struggling to shut down the pain. I lift my left hand and I cup your cheek. You let out a shuddering breath and it brings tears in my eyes. I tilt my face up to look at you; you open your eyes and you look at me too. We stare at each other.

Where do we go from here? What do we do now?

With a quiet, neutral, voice, I ask: "Your leg?"

"I've known better days." You say. "I probably shouldn't have missed the how to crawl in dark holes training course for cripples."

Your smile is crooked but it's the best you can offer. You're trying to minimize. You're trying to forget. You're trying to make it sound like a joke.

"Don't say that." I beseech.

"Ok." You answer, and you stare down at me with your piercing gaze, almost translucent, waiting. Your eyes shine like two topazes, and the intensity of your gaze feels like a source of light of its own, strangely glittering in the semi-darkness of your bathroom. Suddenly, I realize that your face is covered in dust, just like your leather jacket, and your jeans too. You're entirely covered in dust, coming from that hole, where you've been imprisoned all day. How long have you been sitting here, on your bathroom's floor, alone? It seems your neck has stopped bleeding but your bandage is crimson red, impregnated with dry blood and dirt.

"Let me see your wound."

You're not moving. Cautiously, I slide my hands down from your jaw to the base of your neck and I try to lift the bandage to look underneath. The dry blood and the sweat and the wet dust all around turned into a sort of mud, which has glued the bandage on your skin. I pull on it a little and you clutch your hands around my arms, taking a sharp breath. I hold my hand back instantly.

"Sorry," I say, "It's going to hurt."

You're leaning forward, slowly, and you rest your forehead on my shoulder. "Yea, I know," you whisper, with a broken voice. You turn your face to the side, and you kiss my neck. You brush your lips behind my ear and you tighten your grasp around my arms. I stretch my neck and I hold my breath. I can feel my heart pulsating in my jugular. I can hear its thudding sound in my head. My hands grip the hems of your jacket and I hold on to you. Your lips are on my jaw now. It's the softest caress ever, but it sets off the most violent physical sensation inside me. There, in the pit of my stomach, it feels like a stab. The sweetest stab of desire, over and over.

So, is that really how it feels? Love? Does it hurt so deliciously like it hurts right now? I only remember feeling like that once. So many years ago. With you. Never after that moment have I felt so complete in the arms of a man again. Me, as a whole: weak, strong, fulfilled, afraid, confident. Everything.

Who have I been fooling all this time?

You taste like dust. Your skin is warm. I rest my hand of your torso and I feel your heart beating underneath my palm. You moan through my lips and, irrationally, I fear it may be because I've caused you some pain. But I don't want to hurt you anymore.

"House," I murmur into your mouth and I push you back a little. You know exactly why I'm stopping you. You know I need to clean your lesion. You let go of me and you take a step back. I push myself away from the wall and I look around. I point at the bathtub with my chin. "Here, sit down, I really need to look at your shoulder." You sit down docilely, almost with an amused grin on your lips. I come close to you and I notice the broken mirror inside the tub. You follow my gaze and you turn around, looking down behind you at the shards, scattered inside the tub. Then you look back at me, with the eyes of a little child.

"Seven years of bad luck." You say with a slight mischievous edge to your voice. "You sure you still want this now?"

I smile. Of course I do. It's _you_ I want. I've tried to deny it. I've deluded myself into thinking I could ignore how you made me feel. I've tried to live another life. But it didn't work. Not without you in it. You're the other part of my self. I need you to be me. And I don't care if you're not perfect. I don't care if you're screwed up. I just want to be screwed up with you. That's how I feel alive. We have no guarantee that it will work, but we have to try. _I_ want to try. I've wasted too much time, but I've finally realized that no matter what other path I would choose, it would always lead me back to you. In my life, every path I've taken has always led me back to you.

"Yea." I answer, and it makes you smile. And with this smile, shy and slightly unsure, you give me the very first proof that I've done the right thing.

"I need some alcohol, and clean bandages."

"On the shelf behind you."

Shortly after, I'm standing in front of you, nestled between your legs. You hold my waist and you look me right in the eyes. Not for one second do you let go of my face. You don't say a word. I just scarcely feel your fingers clutching me tighter, while I rip off your old bandage. The cut is not too deep, but the skin is roughly scraped, and the edges of the wound are soiled. I soak a compress with alcohol. I focus on the medical gestures. If I let my heart speak now, I'm going to cry. I want to kiss you where you're hurt. I want to take away your pain. I hurry and I finish bandaging your wound. I try to stay as much impassible as I can, but my agitated breath is betraying me. You notice it, of course. You lean forward and you bury your face between my breasts. Softly. You inhale deeply, while you rub your nose against my skin. And you look up again.

"That's ok." You tell me reassuringly, "It doesn't hurt anymore."

How do you do that? You shouldn't be the one comforting me. You've endured so much today. Is it me? But behind those few words you've just said, I imagine that you're trying to tell me something else, and I can't help but read more than what it simply says. I think about the young woman you've amputated. I think about what you've told her. But above all, I think about what I've told you just before, and tears well up in my eyes. I lower my eyes and my gaze lingers on your leg. Have you read my thoughts? You put your hand on your thigh to cover your old scar. My head is still down and one of my tears falls down on the back of your hand. I take a deep breath.

"House, I never wanted to..."

You put your arms around me and you squeeze. You don't want to hear. The words die inside my throat. You're right. What's the point anyway? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Yes, we hurt each other. That's what we did; because we were scared, because we were lost. But I'm done struggling. I love you. Everything I've said or done before is a lie that doesn't need to be explained. Just forgiven. And by the way you've enfolded me, so close to you, forcefully, possessively, I know you will.

We're going to forget the nightmare. We're going to start over.

You push me away from you gently and you stand up. You study yourself. You watch your hands, you touch your stubble, and your rub your forehead. You look stumped.

"I need to wash myself. I can't..." Your voice chokes and you stop, looking touchingly embarrassed.

I go behind you and I grab your leather jacket by the collar and I pull down on it to take it off of you. You let me do it, your arms dangling along your sides; the jacket slides and I let it fall on the floor.

"I'm gonna remove the shards from the tub so you can shower if you want. In the meantime, you can go pick up some fresh clothes and take those ones off."

"You don't need to do that."

"I know. But I want to."

I don't even wait for you to protest and I kneel down decidedly beside the tub to gather the first broken pieces of mirror and take them out. But I haven't yet started that you come behind me and you pull on my arm, forcing me to stand up.

"Leave it there! You're going to cut yourself!" You grunt.

You're still grabbing my arm to prevent me from leaning down again and a shiver runs down my spine; a delightful shiver of bliss. The way you're looking at me right now, enveloping me with a protective gaze, fills me with a feeling of absolute serenity.

"Ok." I comply, and you let go of my arm. I swiftly bend over to take the sponge on the bathtub's rim. "But I can at least wash away the dust off you with hot water from the washbowl."

You raise your eyebrow, incredulously, but a smile flickers on your lips.

"Take off your T-shirt," I command, enjoying the look of surprise and somehow gratitude on your face.

You wait another few seconds, staring at me and you finally take your T-shirt off. You walk towards the washbowl and you open the hot water faucet. You run your fingers underneath the flowing water to test the temperature and when it's become hot enough, you shut the plug and you add some cold water inside the bowl. Then you lean forwards a little, with both your hands grabbing the edge and you wait. I come behind you and I bite my lower lip when I see the bruise on your shoulder blade. I put my fingertips on it and I caress it delicately. You quiver and I hear you take a sharp breath.

"Does it hurt?" I ask.

"What?"

"You have a bruise." I explain.

You turn around to face me and you stare intensely into my eyes.

"I don't feel any bruise." You say, with a throaty voice and a knowing look.

You wind one arm around me and you bring me close to you. You lean down and your mouth claims my mouth, but carefully, barely daring. We brush each other lips delicately and still, I can feel your strength, your strapping frame enveloping me completely. Your other hand is caressing my cheek and your fingers come running through my hair. They slide behind my skull and you pull on the scrunchy that hold my ponytail to free my hair. Your lips move from my lips to my cheekbone, and up to my temple. You comb my hair with your fingers and I'm losing my breath. I draw back a little, panting, and you move your hand away from my skull. We look at each other. You're propped up against the washbowl and your smile is a tease. I'm so close, your bare-chest offered in front of me. I want to rest my face on your skin. I want to snuggle up against you...

No. Not yet.

I put my free hand flat on your torso, for leverage, just underneath your collarbone and I lean forward, skirting you. I plunge my hand in the bowl and I drench the sponge in water. I straighten up and I take your hand inside mine. Then, without letting go of your enthralling gaze on me, I slowly brush your arm with the sponge, from the tip of your fingers to your forearm, and the hollow of you elbow, and your bicep, and your shoulder. You close your eyes when the sensation of the warm water envelops your neck and you tilt your head back a little. By yourself, you turn around again and you bend forward to offer me your back. I infuse the sponge again and I rub your skin, softly. Warm droplets are trickling down your back. If you were facing me, you would see the desire burning me right now. Not a sound in your bathroom, just the flow of the water splashing against the inside of the washbowl; and our breaths, wobbling with all the lust contained in this perfect moment of intimacy. Our first moment of real intimacy.

You face me again, and I wash your torso next. I draw languorous circles on your pecs. I carefully watch out not to wet your bandage and I wipe the dust away from your battered body. When I'm done, I take the towel that's hung next to us and I hold it up to dry you. While I'm patting the fluffy cotton cloth on you, you cup my cheeks inside your palms and you bring my face up towards yours. You look me right in the eyes, with a piercing gaze, puzzled.

"You should go put some dry clothes on." I say, "The water soaked your jeans."

You keep staring down at me but you're not moving. Why do I feel fear behind your eyes? I take your hands inside mine and I slowly slide them away from my face.

"I'm just gonna clean this mess a little, and I'll be joining you right away... I promise it won't take long." I add, with the softest smile I can offer.

You gulp and you silently nod. Then you lean down to pick up your leather jacket and tee-shirt and you leave the bathroom to go to your bedroom.

# # # # #

_[House]_

I don't turn the light on. I step inside and the soft moonlight that's bathing the room with a pale blue shade of light is enough for me to find my way into the dark. I hear noises from the bathroom and I shiver, suddenly feeling the cold sensation of the wet jeans on me. I sit down on my bed and I took my snickers off, then my socks. I can't help it, once they're off and I'm barefoot, I feel like throwing them away. I toss the sneakers in a corner of the room and they slide on the wooden floor underneath the armchair beside my bed. I take a deep breath and I cover my face with my hands. I rub my forehead and I scratch my skull. Then I touch my cheekbone where a fallen rock has hit me, when the concrete tumbled down on us. On Hanna and the fireman, and me. Hanna...

I stand up again and I take my jeans off, then my boxers. I'm here, completely naked, standing in the darkness of my bedroom. My hand mechanically grabs my scar and I clutch my fingers around the hole in my flesh... No, don't think! Forget about it. Don't think. I take my bathrobe on the armchair's backrest and I put it on. I'm tired, so tired.

_You've got nothing, House, nothing!_

Your voice still resonates inside my head like the sharp crack of a whip. But that's not true anymore, is it? I've got you now. Tell me that I do. You enter the room and you switch on the light.

"Don't." I say, wincing.

You turn it off and we're plunged in the dark again. The bathroom's light is coming from behind you and envelops you in a golden halo. It's like an iridescent aura that follows you, while you're approaching me.

"Are you ok?" You ask with a slight worry in your tone.

It's enough to send a twinge of sorrow inside my chest. I let out a deep quivering breath. You're there, just in front of me, with your eyes like two grey pearls, staring at me, waiting. And I'm not going to pretend. I'm not going to play the brave. Tonight, I'm just a man, vulnerable and scared to be hurt, who needs to know.

"Is this really happening?" I ask, "I mean... I know it's not a hallucination but if this is not serious, then I'd rather lose my mind again..." My voice chokes and a moan gets caught inside my throat. You come closer and you touch the side of my arm.

"House..."

"No, wait. I need to say it. Cuddy, you had it. You had everything you wanted. The house, the baby, the fiancé. But me, I don't know if I can give you that. I don't..."

You puff.

"Are you rejecting me?" You say, angrily, taking a step back.

"No, no, no..." I grip your wrist, and I pull you towards me, by fear that you could walk away. "It's just... I don't understand. I don't understand why? Why _now_?"

"How can I reply to that question when I don't have the answer myself? I don't know."

"Did you take pity on me?" I ask, dreading your answer.

Your mouth drops open and you stare at me, astonished.

"No!" You protest, almost shouting. "House, how can you say that? Is that really what you think?"

I look down at my feet, feeling a little bit ashamed. You sigh and you free your hand from my grab. You force me to lift my face and you gently caress my stubble.

"I swear it has nothing to do with pity. If it were, I would have come to you before. For the wrong reasons. But instead, I ran away from you. I've tried to resist. It's not an easy choice, House. _You're _not an easy choice. Things are never simple with you. With Lucas..."

I stiffen at the mention of his name and you notice it, but I called for it. You pause. You too feel embarrassed, I hear you swallow and you lower your head for a second.

"Life was..." You're searching for your words, "quiet and... unsurprising. The exact opposite of how it is with you... You... you make my heart beat faster; whether it's out of anger or edginess, or challenge, or tension, or stress..."

"That's not a lot of positive feelings." I say, with a bit of banter in my tone.

You let out a quiet laugh and without a warning, you snuggle up against me. I immediately enfold you in my arms, petrified at the same time by the sudden sensation of your body pressed along mine.

"But there's more than just that." You blow between the tails of my bathrobe and your breath tickle my chest hair.

"Cuddy" I take a deep breath and I caress your hair. Time stops. Until you seem to realize that I'm not wearing anything under my bathrobe. You play with the belt and you loosen the knot, without untying it. The tails spread open and you slid you hands underneath the cloth to touch my chest. You rub your palms on my torso and it takes my breath away. Exhaustion mingled with desire and this lingering feeling of incredulity after all that's happened: it's more than I can take right now. "I don't want to be a game for you..." I say.

You tilt your head up and you look me deep in the eyes. Even though I don't clearly see your features, I can feel the intensity of your gaze on me.

"I'm not playing." You answer, with a low voice filled with unquestionable honesty that sends shivers down my spine. You rise on your tiptoes and you lift your face higher, your chin almost touching mine. You're simply irresistible, so I don't resist. I lean down, just slightly, until my lips meet yours. Your mouth is half open and I thrust my tongue between your teeth. You taste like cherry, or blackberry. I don't know. But it's sweet and delicious. You entangle your fingers behind my neck and you pull me down so you can deepen our kiss. Your tongue is demanding and your body is dangerously close to mine. I suddenly feel dizzy. All my blood is leaving my brain and I stumble. I straighten up and I try to control the spinning sensation.

"You need to lie down." You say, studying me with worry.

I take your hand and I yank you with me toward the edge of the bed.

"Yes, I definitely need to lie down."

"No House, I'm serious." You look at your watch. "It's almost dawn. You're exhausted. I'm sorry..."

"Sorry for what?" I exclaimed, baffled.

"I should let you rest."

I drop your hand and I stare at you with sad eyes. It was all so perfect until now. I'm still spinning a little and I sit down on the edge of the bed.

"I see. You have to go." I say, not even asking. "I'm stupid. I should have known you couldn't stay..."

"No, you don't understand. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you alone."

"But your kid?"

"Rachel's fine. She's with Marina."

"Marina?"

"Yes, my nanny. I called her when I realized we would probably have to stay at the disaster site after hours."

"Lucas?"

"When I came home... I knew he would leave eventually. So, I..." You gulp. "I asked Marina to stay."

I know what that means. It means that you'd come home, knowing you would end it with Lucas. For some reasons, I feel an immense sensation of joy pervading me. You've chosen me. You're here and you're not going to leave. You look so adorably uneasy I can't hold back the urge to tease you, just for the pleasure of bringing a smile on your lips again.

"So you threw your boy toy out and you booked the baby sitter for the entire night? How could you be so sure you would need her to stay that long?"

You shake your head and you smile, just like I wanted you to.

"I could have kicked your ass out." I add, pushing the limits.

"I could have never come." You answer, not missing a beat. But you instantly bite your lip, already regretting what you've said.

I grab you by the wrist and I tug you toward me. You topple forward and you stop between my legs, where I imprison you.

"Yes. But you have." I whisper, wrapping my arms around you. "And you're here now, with me. It's almost dawn, Lisa Cuddy, and I won't let you go."

You lean down and you kiss me softly on the temple. "Good. Because I don't want to."

"Good." I repeat. "What do you suggest next?"

"I suggest you take your bathrobe off and you slide under the sheets..."

"You know I'm naked under my robe, right?"

You don't answer. You take a step away from me and you kick your sneakers off one after the other. And then you bend down and you take your socks off. When you straighten up, you look at me with a coy smile and you swiftly take off your scrub top, revealing a slate-blue lacy bra that I barely have the time to admire before you remove it as well. I think it's impossible to stare more intensely than I am at your perfect round breasts now. You notice my greedy gaze and you can't hide your smile. You may have tried to deny it all this time, but I've always known that you loved it when I was devouring you with my eyes like I do now; like I intend to do at least another million times.

While you're drawing off your pants, I get up and I strip off too, tossing the bathrobe away behind me. You imperceptibly freeze when you see me naked, and for a split second I have the awful disheartening feeling that you can't stand the vision of my scarred thigh, but then I see mischief behind your smile and I know it was just a stupid, irrational, fear; because you're not like that. I should know better. You don't give a damn about my leg, not in that way. Not in _that_ moment, and that's why you're the one. I slowly spread the sheets open and I enter the bed. Only a few moments after, you join me inside, totally naked too. Your skin is incredibly silky, just like I remember it was. I cannot tell you how many times I've dreamed about touching it again. You're facing me and I smile at you.

"Next time, I'll do it myself."

"Do what?"

"Undress you. You did that way too quickly." I say, with a disapproving pout. "I didn't even have time to look at you."

"What about me? I've barely seen you." You chuckle.

"Who cares?"

"I do." You whisper, and you slither closer to me. Your knees touch my knees and you slide one of your feet between my calves, entangling your legs with mine. Your head rests just next to mine on the pillow and underneath the sheets you put your hands on my belly. It burns. It dries my throat. It speeds up my breath. It clutches my heart. And my body's almost going haywire. But I'm willing to endure that sweet torture and feel like that every day if you're the one that causes it.

"Do you feel better?" You inquire, softly. "How's your shoulder?"

"Fine. I just took some strong pain killer."

You widen you eyes, taken aback.

"Five feet four, "I specify with a roguish smile, "naked, in my bed."

You giggle and you caress my cheek, delicately. I close my eyes. Everything feels so peaceful. Everything feels so right. Finally. I've been waiting an eternity for that moment to happen. I've dreamed about it so many times. And reality is even better. You're soft, beautiful and tender. I'm drifting off to sleep, cradled by the velvety sensation of your caresses. You remove your hand from my face and I jolt awake the moment you do, already feeling the loss of your touch on me. I seize your hand again and I bring it to my mouth. I kiss you inside your palm, on the hollow of your wrist and I rub my nose along your forearm. I'm exhausted and wrecked but I feel alive; like I haven't in a long time. The desire is rising inside me, like a wave. I cup your skull inside my hand and I pull your face toward me. I kiss your lips. Your sweetened lips. You give in for a moment, but then you push me away.

"No. That's not reasonable." You mumble, unconvincingly, between my kisses. "You're tired. You're injured. You should..."

"Make love to you."

"No... sleep. You should sleep and I..."

I cover your lips with my lips and I shut you up.

"Shhh" I blow into your mouth. "There's no way I'm gonna sleep right now. Not before you and I had the chance to do... this!"

I've seized you by the hips and rolled you under me. You look up at me, breathless, your hair cascading on the pillow, your eyes glistening in the semi-darkness.

"Are you sure?" You ask.

"Is that even a real question?" I answer, leaning down in your neck and nibbling your ear lobe.

# # # # #

[House and _Cuddy_]

"No." You whisper, and you sigh through my hair. You stretch your arms above your head and you arch your back. I feel your breasts pressed underneath my chest. I slide my hand on the small of your back and I maintain your hips lifted up toward me. Then I bend to nosedive between your breasts and I lick your ivory skin. I feel your erect nipple on my tongue and I suck it into my mouth, gently grazing the tip with my teeth. Despite the stinging sensation in almost every muscle of my body, I feel the erection building up in my groin and I forget everything that's not as perfectly relaxing as this irrepressible sensation of my arousing desire for you. You're the cure to my soreness. I stroke your curves, lingering my callous hands on the smoothness of your hips, where your flesh is voluptuous and tender. You moan, and it almost sounds like a complaint. But a complaint filled with yearning.

"_House..."_

_I scratch my nails on your back, while you kiss my breasts. Each time your lips touch my skin, it sends electric waves through my body. You fondle my thigh with one of you hands, and I want you so much inside me, my whole body is aching. You're climbing up again, following the line of my collarbone. You bury your face in my neck and you nestle there, without moving, for a second that feels like an eternity. I hear you breathe, fast and deep. I search for your face and I touch your cheek with the tip of my fingers. You've clenched your jaw and you pant heavily along my neck. We shouldn't do that. Not tonight. You're too weak and even if you won't admit it, I know you're in pain. And it's too much. We have all the time in the world for that. I cup your face inside my hand and I lift it above mine, I open my mouth to tell you that it's fine, that we don't need to rush this, but as if you knew what I was going to say, you stare down at me, intensely, and you silence me with the most compelling gaze I've ever seen. What it says is that nothing, nothing, is going to stop you now. _

"Lisa..."

I lean down and I take your mouth. I kiss you, fervently, with all the strength I can gather to reassure you. I just saw worry passing behind your eyes, but worry is not what I want to see on your beautiful face now. I'm ok. I'm ok, my love. Yes, it hurts, but I don't care. It doesn't hurt more than what I used to feel every night when I was falling asleep, alone, under cold sheets. It's not worse than the excruciating sensation of waking up to an empty bed convinced that you were there, when in fact, you were not. I swear I'm fine. I just want you now, more than anything. Pain doesn't matter anymore. All I need is your body to heal mine. Tonight I would sleep on a bed of nails if I had the certainty that it would make you stay with me... You spread your legs wider and I feel my hard member throbbing, aching to find the gate that will lead me to your hidden treasures. It's happening, isn't it? Please, tell me it's really happening. You move your hands down and you take my length between your slender fingers.

"_I want you inside me..."_

_You nestle between my hips and I feel t__he tip of your shaft pressing against my core. A hoarse moan comes from the depth of my throat, begging you to satisfy my yearning for you. The tingles in my womb are already promising me such a powerful orgasm. I'm dying of anticipation. My head is spinning and I can barely catch my breath. You look down at me, with burning eyes, your strapping shoulders enveloping me and I feel incredibly secure. I feel good. I feel like I'm finally right where I belong. You send me one warning gaze, giving me the signal, and you grab my leg confidently, placing one of your hands behind my knee to lift my thigh higher and open me for you. And then, you enter inside me. I love how you make it feel so delicate but strong at the same time. You take a sharp breath and you clutch my thigh tighter. You're gripping me. But I'm no longer afraid. I know this is not pain. You come and go inside me, slowly at first and then faster. And soon, between the sounds of our agitated gasps, you find your pace. And your tempo meets mine. Just like evidence. _

"Hmm... feels good."

I've been fantasizing about this moment a million times already. I've had erotic dreams about your body doing incredible things to me on countless occasions. But nothing compares to what I'm experiencing, here and now. It's better than anything I'd dared to imagine. It's better than what I could have hoped for. Because it's _real_. And the thudding heart I feel beating under mine, carried away by desire, it's yours. The quivering sighs that fill my ear and send endorphins to my brain, they come from your lips. And the name you're whispering into the air, your head tilted back on the pillow, it's mine. I put my hand under your ass cheek and I arch your curves up. I change the angle of your hips and you gasp when another one of my thrusts penetrates you deeper. You start to shudder and I can finally claim your orgasm with poise. I shove into you faster with a few more heaves and I lean down to your face to collect the languorous moans that escape from your lips. The image of your body, shaken by the waves of pleasure, and the sound of your cries, liberating your bliss, is a drug I will never have the strength, nor the will, to detox from. Don't you know that? Don't you know how you make me feel?... You're the best high of my life.

_You__ roll to the side and we pant heavily, looking at the ceiling, trying to catch our breath. Before you can notice me, I turn my head towards you and I catch a glimpse of an incredible smile on your face. The most genuine one I've seen. It gives me the immediate need to be clasped in your embrace again. You feel the power of my stare on you and you turn your head to the side to look at me. I slither back to you and I snuggle up against you. You instantly wrap your arms around me, and I rest my head on your chest._

"_When you're gonna tell this to Wilson, don't forget to specify that I gave you this incredible orgasm, despite me being worn-out and wounded..." You say, incapable of holding back your chuckle. "Oh no wait! I mean when I..." I promptly prop myself up on my elbow and I look at you, with eyes wide open. _

"_House! You are not giving details about our sex life to Wilson!"_

"_Of course not!" You say, beaming._

_I__ narrow my eyes at you, menacingly, but at the same time, I can't suppress the smile that is forming on my lips. You look so happy, basking in the afterglow of this perfect moment. _

"_Ok. We'll talk about that later. I think we should really get some sleep now."_

_I lie back down next to you and I feel your body heat radiating under the sheets and enveloping __me in soft warmth that drifts me off into a peaceful slumber in no time. The last thing I can consciously register is the sensation of your fingertips drawing delicate circles on the round shape of my shoulder, lighter and lighter, until it stops and all I hear is the sound of your regular breath, filling the silence of the room..._

The sound of the delivery truck, honking its horn down the street jerks me awake. I jump and I blink a few times. But daylight is stressing my eyes. I close them again and I put my thumbs on my eyelids, for a few seconds. I am numb, and sore. Then I feel a prickling sensation at the base of my neck. I put out my hand to explore the area and I recognize the touch of a bandage. My breath speeds up. I can feel the sensation of the sheets on my skin. I'm naked. And then, suddenly, I remember.

The book. The crane. The hole. Hanna. Her life smashed to smithereens... Me, sitting on the bathroom's floor, lost, broken. And...

My heart starts to beat faster as I roll over to look behind me in the bed. You're here. Asleep. Your dark hair spread on the pillow. Your mouth slightly open and the sheet barely covering your shoulder, revealing the hem of your round breasts. I sigh in relief. My savior. My wonder. You're so beautiful, sleeping peacefully next to me, lit by the shy first rays of sun, on this bright day of May.

The day when it begins.

You and me.

Us.

~ THE END ~ :-)

* * *

**A/N**

I live only ruled by one word, and it's: SHARE!

So… I've done my part, and now it's your turn… :-)

please, share your thoughts, whatever they express. Tell me your feelings. feed me!

This is a one-shot, so that means you've only got one shot! :-)

SEIZE IT!

And enjoy your Huddy blissful summer! ~ maya


End file.
